


not now

by rubiesanddiamonds



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M, dave has some growing to do, dont we all, i am an adult. i pay bills. i pay taxes., sadstuck because i hate myself, yet i am still johndave trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-13
Updated: 2016-09-13
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:00:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8028793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rubiesanddiamonds/pseuds/rubiesanddiamonds
Summary: theres pride in the sadness.





	not now

**Author's Note:**

> hey this is only short but idk i liked it. written in an insomnia fuelled haze after a dream about fried eggs.   
> couldnt be bothered to go through and add apostrophes and capitals i apologise.

they kept missing each other. heartfelt words lost against seas of red, hidden meaning in seemingly innocent questions.

  
he had been too young, too naive to even begin to contemplate, let alone consider anything but heterosexuality. he had been too scared of rejection, too scared of loosing his best friend to do anything.

  
the space between them had been too vast, too empty for him to wait. one had been relatively alone, one had a hard time being relatively alone. one had come to terms with his feelings, one had learnt to move on and let new emotions blossom.

  
they had been too different when they finally found each other. too mature, too hardened, too independent. three years is a long time.

  
they sat and spoke, one night when the new world was quiet and dark.

  
"god, i wouldve done anything for you to notice me, back when i was a kid. i wouldve eaten dog shit if youd dared me, just to see if youd turn your head and give me one of your little smiles and say 'yo dave, that was pretty cool!' what a fucking dickhead i was."

  
the sky runs purple. the moon here seems different than the one they both remember. not as cold, not as pale, not as stoic. it reflects golden from the sun, leaving the night sky in shades of violet.

  
"you didnt have to do much. i noticed everything about you."

  
the words are too honest, too pure, too untainted to speak. they sully themselves as soon as they are uttered, the situation morphing them into something ugly.

  
"not in the way i wanted you to."

  
the air is humid, the temperature, dropped from the afternoon, is still wonderfully warm. soft breeze dances through the trees when the atmosphere gets too much, too perfect with its timing to not be controlled.

  
"at the time, maybe not. i can see them for what they were, what they are now. i noticed."

  
time seems to both pass and freeze at this hour. there are no sounds but the leaves and their voices, and logically they know every second is passing, yet they feel as though their time together in this little piece of quiet is infinite.

  
"i used to dream of this. its strange, im not sure how to react now. thirteen year old me probably wouldve pinched himself first, but i dont feel like im dreaming right now."

  
he is beautiful, down to his curly roots and short fingernails. his constellation of freckles, his messy chatter, his gangly limbs and his selfless mind.

  
"im not sure if i want you to feel like this is a dream come true."

  
he is also ugly, down to his shaky hands and self hatred. his venomous words, his cold façade, his constant worry and his endless overthinking.

  
tinted plastic frames are pushed up and into his mess of curly blond. molten eyes, bold and bubbling, lock with sky, subtle and relaxing.

  
"i love..." a deep breath. "i love you. i dont know if anything will ever really change that. maybe its just one of those things that are one of my defining personality traits, one of the trio of core dave quirks. but im not sure if i want this, if i want you, now. i think i want my own approval more than i want yours."

  
theres a sense of pride in the sadness of his confession. loving someone means wanting the best for them, wanting them to love every part of themselves as much as you do.

  
"i dont know if you want me to say it, but i love you too, for the record. and i understand. im proud of you."

  
fingers that are too long, too cold, too pale reach and cover too broad, too calloused, too warm.

  
"thanks."

  
the stars fade in and out of focus as two heads stare upward.


End file.
